Above is his monument, normally where all the visitors flock to, although only a few came to take photos while I was sat here drawing, probably due to it being a very cold and blustery day despite the sun. He, of course, isn't buried here, but rather somewhere more discreet, further down the hill, beneath a very modest and plain headstone, beside his wife, amongst hundreds of identical headstones, as befits a man who preached equality - he in fact specifically requested that there be no monuments erected to him upon his death. As you can see, his wishes were ignored.
Actually, I hadn't gone to see Marx myself, but Douglas Adams, author of "A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" which I'd just finished reading. I was reading it because several months previously I'd visited Highgate Cemetery for the first time and saw his grave and thought "Ah, I have his book on my shelf at home, I must re-read it!". I'd been a big fan of his books when I was a teenager but couldn't remember much about them, so reacquainting myself with his unique and hilarious style of writing was a real pleasure.
I've since moved into the Highgate area, and it's now just a short walk for me across the beautiful Waterlow Park to reach the cemetery, so upon finishing the book, I decided to pay him a return visit to thank him for his literary gifts to the world. He characteristically said nothing, of course, owing to the fact that he's dead, but I took his silence to mean that he understood my reasons for being there, that he was pleased and humbled, and that really he had a much better spot than the Karl Marx bust anyway, so he was quite alright, thank you very much.
But then again, it might just've been the wind.
But then again, it might just've been the wind.
